


Slow Hands

by Hipsterian



Series: Anniversary [2]
Category: Winner (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Sexy Times, slightly based on Winner trip to Guam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 01:44:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16883250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hipsterian/pseuds/Hipsterian
Summary: Jinwoo needs to beat Minho's present from last year and he will win (even if he doesn't, Minho doesn't mind as long as he can have Jinwoo).





	Slow Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> So here it is, the second part of this series of 4 ~ (Fate Number Four).  
> I hope you like it! Title and parts of the story are not so based on Niall Horan's "Slow Hands" song, so all kuddos to him for providing the inspiration and letting me steal parts of the lyrics to use here.  
> Thanks a lot for reading!   
> As you might be aware by now, English is not my native tongue, so sorry for all the mistakes you'll find there.  
> Also if you leave a comment, you will be contributing to making someone happy (and to prolong this story). Kuddos are also very appreciated!
> 
> Have a lovely day ahead!

**Slow hands**

 

He has been thinking about it a lot, in a way to return Minho's favor (because Jinwoo is competitive even when it comes to love). It is complicated to surpass his gift but he can always try (for Minho he would try everything). 

Considering that soon will be their second anniversary he wants to do something special, different (but Minho has given him a star and this is something hard to play against). 

He remembers how busy they have been, with so little time to share: Minho has been living on Incheon Airport for the last month, traveling back and forth between Japan and Korea and he has seen him in flashes of quick shared nights and even more quick fucks that lately have become so few that even Jinwoo misses them (he misses sleeping pressed between Minho's arms, encircled in his love, showering him with gentle caresses down his back, kissing him like rain on a spring morning). 

He looks at the calendar; it's not on the same date but it will do, it will work for the both of them. He smiles, beaming like sunlight against the laptop's screen, clicking and selecting all, hoping that Minho will like it, too (it is not as grand as expected but he can't buy time - but share the little moments together, doing the best out of it). 

He aimed for Hawaii but Guam should do, he thinks, looking at pictures (it's a lovely place as well and it's far closer to Seoul and then there is a place that Minho will totally love to go and Jinwoo pats himself Ina congratulatory manner for a job well done - he is sure now, reading the information available, that he has chosen the perfect city to go). 

Jinwoo begs Seunghoon to drive them to the airport, Minho blindfolded behind him, hands held and exiting smirks all over his face. Seunghoon only accepts to do so after promises of bringing him something (as if it wasn't already clear, Seunghoon is Jinwoo's best friend). 

Minho holds onto him dearly, waiting for Jinwoo to take the lead, eyelids firmly closed and the sound of cars humming from behind. He walks out of the car following instruction and inside a bubbling place filled with voices echoing like bells in a church. With only darkness, it feels strange but Minho trust Jinwoo (he owns his heart, he trust him his whole life). 

It's more an electric feeling rather than excitement what tickles his spine, sending shivers down his bones (Jinwoo is kissing his temple and he sees stars, the light back to his eyes like a shotgun). 

“Happy anniversary,” he murmurs inside his ears, his hands cradling his cheeks, thumbs dancing tenderly; Jinwoo's eyes are solely on him and he feels loved like never before (they spark, totally alive, oceans of lights tilting inside his pupils and he drowns into them, wishing for Jinwoo lips to give the oxygen that he lacks).

He doesn't questions where are they going, he lets the thrill to embrace him, following Jinwoo, who sits on the seat next to him, head on his shoulder and he soaks his fingers on his hair. 

“You didn't have to do this, having you is the best gift I could ever ask for,” Minho whispers and Jinwoo hums, too tired to be properly embarrassed (but his face lit in colors that are precious and Minho drinks it, embroidering it inside his sight). He kisses his forehead, brushing inked flocks out of the pale surface of Jinwoo's profile; sleeping on top of him, he looks like the greatest thing in his life (he holds him tight so that he can have dreams of him, forgetting all the days apart). He can't wait to have Jinwoo all for himself (the air smells like him and it stirs his sense, his hunger of him, build with all the hours he has dreamt about having him as he wants to have him now).

The draught that hits him first is fresh and flowery and it tastes like summer nights on the beach with Jinwoo beaming at him like a fire consuming his skin. It is great to be greeted by the breeze and the ocean and the birds are singing as if welcoming them to Paradise (Minho turns around to see Jinwoo and, suddenly, he is high on him, his smile saying all that can’t be told and, as precious as this place is, Jinwoo is even better bathed with a pure sunshine covering his eyes with a light that can’t be contained - like his urge to ravish his lips and take him to the hotel, messing with sheets and making him chant his name). 

Jinwoo, though, has other plans (plans that don’t involve any bed, any kind of physical contact other than holding hands but for having Jinwoo, he will wait). Scuba diving is fun and fishes tag along Jinwoo, enchanted as if a mermaid was there (but it’s only Jinwoo’s presence). It pays off because Jinwoo’s skin, all wet, is iridescent and pale and his hair sticks to his forehead and he can brush it without excuses, kissing salty drops falling from his cheeks to the sand below, laughing gently, the sun washing them with pure joy. It has been so long since they have been so relaxed, so alone, enjoying the moment, playing like kids on the sore. 

The bed is springy under his back and it caves in when he pins Jinwoo down, capturing his lips as he has been craving for (Jinwoo smiles and sinks further into him, skimming flesh that feels still so far away). His hands encircle his frame and pull him into a better kiss, deeper, rougher, mouth hanging open, little moans escaping like a tiny puff of air. There is no way out; because he wants him so bad, he needs to feel slow hands slipping on him, no more plans but fingertips running along, down until making him scream his name; there is no stopping now and Jinwoo purs, licking gently his lobe, tongue on his piercing (and it is titillating in a more intimate way than expected, Minho holds him and revels in the wonder that Jinwoo is, naked on him, grinning at him with all the love in the world). 

All plans are canceled but being inside Jinwoo all night long, covering his body with his hands, touching his soul while watching him cry (until falling asleep and never wake up, always between this striped sheets covered with sweat and love, Jinwoo by his side). 

When morning comes it finds them curling together, sleep press under their eyes, shadows dancing with the wind and Jinwoo stirs, too tired, cursing at Minho, kicking him gently.

“We are going to miss the plane to skydive,” he says, soaring voice, too coarse to speak aloud.

Minho flips to him, eyes half closed, a smirk on his face.

“I don’t need to fly if I’m with you. I’m already high in the sky,” he purs, catching his lips lazily. “Come back to sleep with me, my love.”

The views from the hotel room are perfects, Minho thinks, sitting on the sofa while watching Jinwoo’s naked form emerging from the pool of his deck. He doesn’t miss flying, not when he can put his hands on Jinwoo again.


End file.
